


Bet On Me

by proudlygoingnowhere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (mild) angst with a happy ending, M/M, Underage Drinking, brief scenes of sexual assault, idk where this story is gonna go, slowburn, trigger warnings will be applied as necessary, vld, voltron legendary defender - Freeform, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-24 02:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13204167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proudlygoingnowhere/pseuds/proudlygoingnowhere
Summary: “Since it’s your first high-school party ever, how about we go around and I introduce you to some people who you’d normally never talk to if I didn’t make you?” Pidge suggests, winking.“Pidge, no, that’s literally the worst idea ever,” Keith retorts. “Can’t I just sit in a dark corner by myself somewhere and sulk?”His friend shakes her head and chuckles. “Not tonight, Kogane. You lost a bet to me and now it’s time for you to learn that bad grades have bad consequences.”(Keith loses a bet to Pidge and is forced to go to a back-to-school party. He gets caught up in a drinking game and meets Lance, and things between them kinda unravel from there.)





	1. The Party, pt.1

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey hey!!! it's been like a billion years since i've posted something on this website, but i'm back with a new, fresh story for you all. i started writing this last night as a way to break through writer's block, and then it developed into something that i'm actually sorta proud of. at this moment in time i have no idea in what direction the story is gonna go, so just take it chapter by chapter, and we'll see how it plays out. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy!
> 
> ~proudlygoingnowhere

The first thing that crosses Keith Kogane’s mind when he arrives at the first party of senior year is that he definitely does not want to be there. Parties are not his idea of a perfect Friday evening, yet here he is, surrounded by red Solo cups, strobe lights, and dozens upon dozens of teenagers crammed in every corner of the house, waving their arms around and hollering above the music that is roaring from the speakers. Above all, everything and everyone is so close together and crowded that there’s no breathing room, nowhere to go without being touched by someone or something. Every aspect of the situation makes Keith uncomfortable, but there is no way he can leave, especially not after losing a gamble brought on by the one and only Pidge Holt (his best - and only - friend).

 

Four months ago, Keith had been struggling to pass French class, thus Pidge offered to help him out by placing a bet: if Keith passed his French final, then she would pay him twenty dollars. If not, he had to attend the popular kids’ annual back-to-school party the following semester.

 

For Keith, there is nothing worse in the world than being dragged to a party. Especially not after what happened during the end-of-year party in freshman year. Following that night, he’d sworn to himself to never show his face at a social event ever again. The only thing standing between himself and certain doom was this stupid test.

 

The French final came and went, and two weeks later, when the student’s scores were handed back, Keith’s stomach dropped when he discovered that he had gotten a D. When he dishearteningly told Pidge, her eyes became huge and she squealed, proceeding to bounce around the room with joy. Keith swallowed hard, feeling tears well in his eyes as his mind abruptly took him back to the freshman year party.

 

The party is something Keith wishes he could forget forever, for the events are too emotionally jarring to believe. It scars him so much that he can’t pluck up enough courage to tell anyone what happened to him, not even Pidge. So when she celebrated his French final failure, he felt a giant lump in his throat, and infinite knots threaded around in his stomach.

 

He asked Pidge why she was so happy that he’d basically failed; she told him to shut up and get more serious about studying.

 

And now here they are, part of the crowd, and Keith doesn’t want anything more than to be curled up underneath his soft, warm comforter at home.

 

However, Pidge has other ideas.

 

“Since it’s your first high-school party ever, how about we go around and I introduce you to some people who you’d normally never talk to if I didn’t make you?” she suggests, winking.

 

“Pidge, no, that’s literally the worst idea ever,” Keith retorts. “Can’t I just sit in a dark corner by myself somewhere and sulk?”

 

His friend shakes her head and chuckles. “Not tonight, Kogane. You lost a bet to me and now it’s time for you to learn that bad grades have bad consequences.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere with you in this house,” Keith says firmly, crossing his arms. “You can’t make me.”

 

Pidge looks like she wants to just drag him across the floor and further into the party, when someone comes up to her and taps her on the shoulder. Pidge peers over to see who it is, and then gasps in excitement. “Hey, Nyma!” she squeals. (Keith makes a mental note to later ask Pidge about why girls feel the need to scream at literally everything.) “I didn’t think you were coming tonight!”

 

“I wasn’t, but my date cancelled on me at the last moment, so I decided to show up,” the girl called Nyma says. “Anyway, I came over to tell you that there are mini burgers in the kitchen and they’re almost gone, wanna go grab some?” Then she notices Keith. “Who’s your friend?”

 

“This is Keith,” Pidge says, gesturing towards him. “He’s usually one hell of an introvert,  but tonight he decided to tag along and get loose for once.”

 

“ _Pidge_ ,” Keith snarles, as she gives him a seemingly innocent grin.

 

“I’m gonna go with Nyma to get food before it’s all out,” Pidge tells him, giving up on dragging him around the party. “You can come with us if you want, or not, just… be safe and don’t do anything stupid.” With that, she and Nyma vanish into the thicket of the crowd.

 

 _Great, now I’m all alone amongst a bunch of strangers_ , Keith thinks, frowning. _It can’t get worse than this._

 

Suddenly he wishes he’d gone to get food with Pidge, but when he fights his way into the kitchen to retrieve her, she’s not there. He stands in the bustling kitchen for a while, watching people move back and forth and retrieve more and more beers from a large cooler in front of the fridge. At some point during the chaos, the music suddenly gets turned up to full volume, making the whole house shake. Even more strobe lights come blasting on (is it even possible to have this many flashing lights on one floor of a house?), and everyone around Keith begins to jump up and down to the beat.

 

Someone jostles against Keith’s elbow, spilling some of their drink onto his sweater. Scowling, Keith finds some napkins to clean up, but even after he reduces the spillage to a faint brown stain, it still smells of alcohol, making Keith sick to his stomach.

 

Desperately trying not to have a panic attack, Keith finds a chair and pulls it into an empty corner. He sits down, taking deep breaths and letting his eyelids drift closed. _Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale… inh-_

 

A sudden uproar of cheering from the room over startles Keith and sends him flailing out of the chair and onto the floor, knocking his head against a wall. Reeling in pain, Keith slowly sits up to see a group of kids gathering around the dining room table. Something big is happening, and since this is the most interesting thing that’s happened within the first half-hour of being at this party, Keith decides to investigate.

 

The dining room is dimly-lit, with deep, red-orange walls that make the atmosphere even more dramatic. Teenagers are surrounding the table, on which two boys are standing, a beer can in each one’s hand. The one on the right looks no older than fifteen years old, with large brown eyes and a messy haircut. His lip is quivering and his fingers tremble - it’s obvious he doesn’t want to do what is about to be done.

 

The other boy Keith has never seen in his life (probably because Keith never socializes with anyone other than close family and Pidge). This boy is older than the first one, probably around Keith’s age, with dark hair and striking blue eyes. The new boy is also very tall, and he cowers over the younger one, creating a scarily intimidating image in Keith’s mind. Despite his threatening physique, the older boy’s facial expression is an odd mixture of pity and amusement, eyebrows raised and one side of his mouth turned up to form a curious grin.

 

It only takes Keith a fraction of a second to realize what exactly is happening, and before his anxiety can stop him, he shoves his way through the crowd until he’s pressed right up against the edge of the table.

 

“...tell me that you don’t want to do this?” The older boy is saying, keeping his tone steady.

 

“I-I’m not doing this of my own free will,” the younger one replies, his voice just barely audible over the music. “He made me do it.” He points a thin finger at a burly boy that Keith painfully recognizes. Just seeing him makes Keith’s head spin and heart pound in fear, but Keith stays where he is, determined to figure out how to help the situation. The accused boy is standing at the head of the table, arms crossed and smiling threateningly.

 

The older boy on the table stares at the burly boy below him. “Don’t make the kid do this, Axel,” he says calmly.

 

“The kid got me kicked off the football team, he deserves this,” Axel replies gruffly, his smile refusing to go down. Keith feels a spark of rage incite in his chest. “Stop being a pussy, Lance, this freshman is the easiest competition you’ll have for the rest of your life. He’ll be _fine._ ” He reaches out an arm and shoves the younger boy in the calf, sending him forward and hitting his head on the ceiling fan.

 

“Please… don’t make me do this,” the boy pleads, placing a hand over his forehead.

 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have written that article about me and published it in the school paper, yeah?” Axel snaps back.

 

“You kinda deserved it, though,” Lance mumbles, looking at his feet. “I’m surprised you didn’t get expelled after what you did.”

 

“Shut up, McClain,” Axel shouts. “You just moved here so you don’t know _shit_ about what happened. Don’t even say anything about it.” He turns to the younger boy. “Do it or I’ll rip your legs off, you shrimp.”

 

“No,” the younger boy replies, trying to sound as confident as possible.

 

“ _Do it!”_ Axel howls, preparing to lunge for the boy.

 

By now, the vexation inside of Keith is raging, and he grabs Axel’s sleeve, glaring at him dead in the eye. “ _I’ll do it_.”

 

Axel looks sideways at Keith and snorts. “You?” he scoffs.

 

“Yes, me,” Keith says, his voice firm. Despite his nervousness, he refuses to break eye contact. “It’s absurd of you to expect someone so young and little to ingest beer against his own free will.”

 

“Sorry, pal, this kid’s gotta pay the price for what he did to me,” Axel says stiffly. “You can go next round.”

 

“Listen, asshole, it doesn’t matter what he did to you to ruin your life, this is an unfair act of revenge, and you know it,” Keith pressed. “He doesn’t want to do it, so don’t make him. I’m taking his place, and that’s final.”

 

Axel considers this for a moment. “Hmm, I suppose an older opponent could make things a whole lot more interesting…”  He shakes Keith off of him, who had still been holding onto his arm. “Get up there,” Axel grunts.

 

The younger boy breathes a heavy sigh of relief and jumps off of the table, throwing his beer can at Keith. “Thank you so much,” the boy says breathlessly, giving Keith a quick hug before scurrying off into another room.

 

His whole body shaking, Keith climbs onto the table and brandishes the beer can in his hand.

 

“Nervous?” the boy standing across from him asks him softly, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Are you kidding? Look at me,” Keith answers, motioning to his trembling legs. “What do you think?”

 

“Alright, I assume that’s a definite yes.”

 

“Yeah.” Keith hesitates for a moment. “By the way, my name’s Keith.”

 

“Lance,” the other replies. They quickly shake hands.

 

“Okay, listen up, this is how this is gonna work!” Axel declares. “Both of you have one minute to drink as much beer from your can as possible. No pouring any out on the floor, no throwing it up after it passes into your throat. It’s all gotta get digested.”

 

Keith peers at Lance and notices that he’s just as anxious about this. What's  _his_ story? Did Axel pressure _him_ into drinking, too?

 

“Now, there’s one twist,” Axel continues, holding up two small knives. At first, Keith thinks that Axel’s going to stab him and Lance, and that they would have to chug beers while bleeding out, but then he is presented one of the blades, and his worries about being murdered right then and there subside. “You aren’t going to be simply opening up the beer from the top of the can - you gotta shotgun it! The whole thing!”

 

“What the shit?” Keith mumbles. He’s seen people shotgun beers before, but he’s never dared to try it himself.

 

Lance hears Keith’s muttering and gives him a reassuring look. “Just slit open a side of the can, press it to your mouth, and drink out of the hole,” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard, you just have to be careful not to cut yourself.”

 

“Okay.” The nerves in Keith’s body become more frantic as he imagines himself royally screwing it up, and spilling his beer and blood over everything. He is suddenly very relieved that the freshman who he’d volunteered for would not have to undergo this torture.

 

“On the count of three,” someone in the crowd shouts.

 

 _Oh no,_ Keith thinks.

 

“ONE!” the crowd yells.

 

_Tonight’s the night, the night I die from alcohol poisoning._

 

“TWO!”

 

_I wonder what Pidge is doing…_

 

Keith looks at Lance, who gives him a small but noticeable smile for good luck.

 

“THREE!”

 

Both boys take their knives and jam them into their beer cans, sending a small spray of alcohol to shower the people below. Not waiting to see if Lance has gotten his beer can open, Keith throws his head back and closes his eyes, letting the golden liquid slip past his lips and down his throat.

 


	2. The Party, pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 2018 everyone!!!!! here's chapter two for you all, i apologize for the kinda-crappy writing, i've been out with a cold these past few days.
> 
> also, i promise there will be more exciting klance content in future chapters, i'm just trying to come up with a build-up to their friendship, as well as work out details for other parts of the story. :)

Bitter.

 

That’s the one word that comes to mind as Keith chugs his can of beer, only taking a second in between each sip to breathe. The bitterness overtakes his taste buds, working its way into his saliva and on the roof of his mouth, burning the back of his throat as it flows into his stomach. There’s also a slight aluminum taste, something Keith was not quite expecting. He’s ingested alcohol before, at family events, but it wasn’t beer, and it definitely wasn’t enough to cause any real damage to himself or his senses.

 

But this is on a whole different level. A level Keith can’t even begin to describe. It’s not great, Keith decides, and it’s not terrible, but it’s extremely overwhelming.

 

Keith has no idea how much time has passed, and he doesn’t bother taking the time to check his watch - the only thing that matters is this competition. Lord only knows what would happen to him if he lost, so he ignores the uncomfortable sensation running through his body and continues to drink.

 

At some unknown point in the race, Keith notices just how much beer he’s managed to get all over himself. The liquid is practically surrounding him, running down his wrists and the front of his neck, and landing in little puddles on the dining room table. The fading beer stain from earlier in the evening is nothing compared to the splotches that now stain his sweater, jeans, and canvas shoes. He’s an absolute mess, and his family is bound to kill him when he gets home, if Pidge doesn’t try and murder him first.

 

Finally, Keith’s beer can is completely drained, and he throws it onto the table in exhaustion. Lance is already finished and is still holding his beer can in one hand as he wipes his mouth with the other.

 

“TIME’S UP!” someone shouts, and the crowd goes wild.

 

Suddenly, Keith’s head starts to pound furiously, and when he tries to look up at his opponent the room begins to spin.

 

He looks down at his feet, at the pool of beer he’s standing in, and realizes how big of a mistake he’s made.

 

Without waiting to hear his punishment for losing, he clambers off of the table and rushes to the bathroom, where he locks the door and spends the following fifteen minutes gagging into the toilet.

 

As Keith prepares to clean himself up, his phone buzzes, and a text message from Pidge flashes on the screen:

 

(9:37pm) _Where are you?_

 

Keith sighs and wearily sends her a reply:

 

(9:38pm) **I’m comnig** _._

 

(9:40pm) _That doesn’t answer my question. Where are you?_

 

(9:41pm) **Im in tje bathrmoo**

 

(9:41pm) _...are you drunk?_

 

(9:43pm) **Mabye.**

 

(9:43pm) _Ugh… meet me by the front door in one minute, I’m taking you home._

 

Keith trudges out of the bathroom and stumbles towards the front of the house. The spinning sensation is growing worse and worse, and he’s experiencing an unsettling amount of vertigo. He just barely manages to reach the front hall when he trips over someone’s chair and collapses to the ground, hitting the hardwood floor with a painful _thud_.

 

Everything hurts.

 

Keith rolls over onto his back and tries to sit up, only to be knocked back down by a searing pain shooting through his head.

 

“Dude, are you okay?”

 

Keith just manages to lift himself up enough to see a boy crouching over him, a worried expression on his face. Despite Keith’s grogginess, he can vaguely make out the physical features of the boy, who has dark hair, striking blue eyes, and a familiar voice…

 

 _Striking blue eyes_ -

 

“L-Lance?” Keith manages to utter.

 

“That’s my name,” Lance says proudly, lending Keith a hand and slowly pulling him to his feet. “I was just about to leave this party and then I saw you fall. Are you okay?”

 

“Not really…”

 

Lance chuckles, but not in a teasing sort of way. “I take it the drinking competition was a bit much for you to handle?”

 

Keith gives him a sideways look. “If you want to put it lightly, then yeah,” he says. “After all, I did spent the past twenty minutes ejecting my stomach acid into a toilet bowl.”

 

“Sounds like you’ve had your share of fun tonight, then.”

 

“Well, ‘fun’ isn’t exactly how I’d describe it… ‘miserable,’ more like.”

 

“Yeah, I get it.” Lance sighs. “I usually like going to parties, but even this is getting out of hand for _me._ ” He nods in the direction of the living room, where the popular kids are now playing a veryyy intense game of Truth or Dare.

 

Keith lets out a small grunt in agreement.

 

_“Keith Kogane, wherever you are, get your ass over here!”_

 

Both boys whip around to see Pidge’s face bobbing in and out of sight in the front hall. She’s standing on her tiptoes, trying her very best to spot Keith amongst the crowd despite her extreme height disadvantage. When she finally spots him, she hurries over, fuming.

 

“S-sorry, Pidge,” Keith apologizes, making as little eye contact with her as possible. “I-”

 

“I’ve been waiting for you for too long,” Pidge scolds him. “You need to get home before your symptoms get any worse.” She takes him by the elbow and starts leading him away.

 

“Wait, Laaance-” Keith starts.

 

“Nope, no more chatter, I’m getting you home,” Pidge interrupts, exasperated, pulling out her car keys. “You two can exchange numbers at school on Monday.”

 

On the ride back to Keith’s house, Keith drawls out a brief synopsis of his evening, trying to downplay the events, which proves unsuccessful.

 

Pidge practically explodes with aggravation.

 

“ _What the hell_ were you thinking, getting into a drinking game?” she chastises. She picks up the first thing she can find in the car - which ends up being a half-empty water bottle - and uses it to whack Keith on the shoulder, making him wince.

 

“Pidge, do yerself an’ me a favor and save the lecture f’r tomorr’w,” Keith says, too drunk and exhausted to fight back.

 

“There was _one_ thing I specifically told you _not_ to do tonight,” Pidge seethes, too upset to stop at the red light. Several angry car horns go off as they speed down the road, but neither of them care. “What was the one thing I told you not to do?” When Keith doesn’t respond, she picks up the water bottle and hits him again.

 

“You tol’ me notta do anythin’ stupid,” Keith answers, giving in.

 

“That’s right, and what did you go and do?”

 

“...somethin’ stupid.”

  

Pidge sighs and shakes her head, reminding Keith of his mother when she is upset. The last thing he needs right now is for Pidge to go ranting on about how she’s disappointed in him, how he’s supposedly failed her as a friend, but luckily enough she stays quiet.

 

When they’re a block away from Keith’s house, Pidge breaks the silence. “So how are you gonna explain the stains on your clothing? Not to mention the extremely obvious beer aroma that you’re exuding?”

 

Keith moaned and pulled his hood up over his head. “Parents won’t care,” he mumbled, too weary to even think about possible punishments.

 

“I dunno, last time I checked, Jeff and Winnie Kogane weren’t too fond of their kids drinking alcohol outside of family gatherings,” Pidge responds. “Cough cough, eighteen-year-old Shiro, _cough_.”

 

Keith pretends not to know what she’s talking about, but there’s no way he could possibly forget. Pidge is referring to the night his older brother Shiro attended a high school graduation party, and came home with a stack of polaroids, a near-empty vodka bottle, and alcohol poisoning to commemorate the evening. That night, their parents had gone over for dinner to a neighbor’s for a late dinner party, but had decided to come home early in fear of leaving their children at home alone for too long. Keith was only twelve at the time, and when Shiro had gotten home he made Keith swear not to tell their parents about the party; they found out soon enough on their own anyway. A trip to the hospital was required, and ever since that night, Shiro has never taken more than one small sip of wine per night.

 

“That was one time, Shiro doesn’t do that stuff anymore,” Keith counters. “Jus’ let me go for the night, I’mma be fine.”

 

It’s getting awfully late, and Pidge is starting to grow tired as well, so she doesn’t bother protesting and drops Keith off at his house with a cautious, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

Keith’s fingers tremble as he unlocks the door and goes inside. Every light on the first floor is off except for the kitchen, but when he goes to investigate, no one is in there. However he does find a note on the fridge, explaining that his parents are out at a concert and Shiro is with a friend. Thankful that no one is around to see him in this state of drunkenness, he drops his coat in the front hall instead of hanging it on a coat hook, then clumsily makes his way upstairs.

 

Since nobody else is home, Keith realizes this is the perfect opportunity to cleanse himself of the party as much as possible. He goes into his bedroom and immediately strips off all of his clothes, shoving them at the bottom of his laundry basket. Unable to scrub the stains off of his shoes, he hides them in the back of his closet, underneath a pile of boxes.

 

Ready to just pass out, Keith turns off the lights and crawls into bed, willing himself to sleep. After a few long minutes, he realizes how much of himself still smells like beer, so he jumps into the shower and covers himself in soap and warm water until the scent is mostly gone.

 

It is almost twelve in the morning when Keith finally rolls back into bed. All of the energy in his body dissipates, and he drifts off into a heavy sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pidge would be the best mom friend ever :D
> 
> also if any of u wanna stalk me on social media, my links are:  
> INSTAGRAM: @grayskyluna  
> TWITTER: @P3culiarpearl
> 
> in addition to writing, i do lots of art and take photos sometimes :)

**Author's Note:**

> don't try this drinking game at home :)


End file.
